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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26452474">The Sight of You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrenalynn/pseuds/Wrenalynn'>Wrenalynn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bounce A Coin Bingo Prompts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Injury, Bounce a Coin Off Your Witcher Discord's Bingo, Brief mentions of Yennefer and Ciri, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Permanent Injury, Prompt Fill, Recovery, happy endings for our boys though, nasty monsters, random original characters - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:40:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,903</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26452474</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrenalynn/pseuds/Wrenalynn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt decides it's finally time for a vacation. He's earned it, Jaskier has earned it, and Yennefer has demanded he <i>go away</i>.</p><p>It's supposed to be an enjoyable trip to Toussiant, where Jaskier has yet to visit, and at least a couple weeks of sun, wine, and each other.</p><p>Things don't go to plan though, because Jaskier just can't stand to stay behind during hunts...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bounce A Coin Bingo Prompts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bounce A Coin Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Sight of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! Back at it again with my Bingo Prompts!</p><p>Fair warning, I am not a medical expert in any manner, I just use some Google-fu and pray, lol.</p><p>All mistakes are mine. Please be gentle. </p><p>And please be careful with yourselves. There is blood and injury in this fic.<br/>It's whumpy, but I can't stand to leave things sad so there will be fluff and comfort throughout.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The path through the Amell mountains was well worn and blessedly empty, allowing for smooth travel. Geralt was looking forward to their time in Toussaint. It had been too long since he had been here last, and this time… well, this time, he had a companion to make the warm climate and sweet valleys seem all the better. Said companion was currently tuning his lute and humming softly to himself as he trailed just behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once, Geralt was walking, leading Roach by the bridle and openly enjoying his time on the road. It had… well, it had been a long five years if he was being completely honest, since he’d chased away his friend, broken his bard’s heart, and gotten smacked in the face with sudden parenthood. The girl had been good for him, teaching him to open up and talk for once. To be more honest with himself. A year after that he’d found Jaskier again and at least had his apology accepted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took the rest of the three years to regain the bard’s trust, but regain it he did and it was like old times. Mostly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a twist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If that twist was that suddenly and without warning, upon the Bard flirting with him for the first time since their reunion, Geralt found himself with his hands in Jaskier’s hair and his lips upon the other’s. Geralt would certainly call it a twist. At least there was a lot of twisting. And various other interesting movements involving hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, here they were… on the road to an actual semi-vacation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This trip was going to be a treat for them. He was still intending to take contracts, but his main focus was on slowing down and enjoying things for once. Yen and Ciri had been very firm with him that they didn’t want to see him again until he had a nice tan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first town they came upon just before the border into Toussiant was so small and so dismal, he couldn’t remember its name if he tried. And of course, it had monster trouble coming from the old cemetery a half hours walk into the hills. This was a war-torn territory, and while it may be at peace for the moment, the older graves certainly didn’t know that. Which meant necrophages. Lovely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three different families had succumbed over the season to the monsters when out hunting or harvesting, and their houses sat as empty and grim reminders. Geralt found them a warm table in a corner at the local tavern and set about prepping himself for the battle. Jaskier sat watching him, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like the thought of you going out there alone. What if you get bitten? Mauled? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nearly</span>
  </em>
  <span> mortally wounded? I need to be at least nearby, Geralt! My heart won’t take sitting here and waiting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt shook his head as he set the potions and oils to the side, and picked up his blade to sharpen. “I know it’s hard, but I need to know you are here and safe. Necrophages are nasty and pose a serious threat. The cemetery in the hills is old… there’s a chance it’s worse than ghouls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh! Like rotfiends?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s entirely possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that settles it. I must at least be within shouting distance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Jaskier. You aren’t coming.” He looked up from his work and tilted his head slightly, grinning softly at the other man. “Besides, I like the idea of having someone to come back to. Someone waiting for me to make it back. Gives me a fighting edge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s face went through several shades of pink and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, that isn’t fair. How dare you use the puppy eyes and sweet words on me! It’s cruel. Makes me unable to fight you further.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up. “Why do you think I did it? Now… stay here. Sing a song, drink some piss poor ale, and think encouraging thoughts. I’ll be back before the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, Sit. Stay. Good Bard. I know the drill.” He pouted and Geralt chuckled, carefully packing up and heading towards the door. Jaskier called out to him before he got too far away though, hand on the door. “Geralt!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier had straightened up in his seat and he had a gleam in his eye the other couldn’t quite place. He tilted his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt smiled and nodded back to him before swinging out the door, attempting to stick the trademark Witcher scowl back on his face before one of the fool townsfolk got it into their heads that he was soft. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a rotfiend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it wasn’t just a Ghoul either… though there certainly had been two of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, it was something he had only read about in Vesemir’s bestiaries. A rare creature...deadly and grotesque and only seen in…. Toussaint. Damn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a Scurver. And they had a very nasty habit of exploding upon death. The primary problem with that fun little tidbit was that they also were covered head to claw in terrifying bone spikes. They were nightmarish even to Witchers, and Geralt found himself even more grateful that he had convinced Jaskier to stay behind as he spun about the makeshift battlefield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was bleeding sluggishly from a cut across his face, but the two ghouls were dead and the scurver was looking more close to death with every parry and slash Geralt inflicted on it. The necrophage oil was doing its job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched the creature sag and dim and when it finally fell to its knees he quickly jumped back several paces and cast Quen about him. The explosion was less than pretty, but the shield took the full brunt. He had just enough time to briefly think that had gone too well when a blood-curdling scream rose up from just behind him in the nearby treeline. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He… he knew that voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt gripped his sword tighter and dashed towards the sound. The initial screech of surprised pain had morphed in sobs of agony overlaid by pained panting. He rounded a tree and found Jaskier crumpled to the ground hands shaking in front of his face, blood flowing. He dropped to his side and put a hand to his shoulder, turning him carefully to try to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ger...Gert… ‘m sorry...sorry…” And then the words cut off into more pained groans as Geralt sheathed his sword and tried to lower the hands hovering a beat away from his right eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard to see through the blood, but it was clear he’d been caught by a flying spike. He must have had himself mostly hidden by the tree for it appeared the spike had only caught him across the face instead of impaling him. The bard was lucky to be alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt swallowed back bile and ripped the sleeve from his shirt. He needed something to stop the blood and now. A gash at least an inch deep started at the bridge of his nose, went right across his eye, and had caught the shell of his ear, which was now bleeding freely as well as appeared to be missing a bit of it. The offending spike was buried in the tree behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He murmured apologies to Jaskier before bunching up the fabric and pressing it to the open wound across his face, pressing in slightly at the nose. The bard screamed anew. Geralt winced and grabbed Jaskier’s hand, bringing it to hold the cloth in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. But you’ll need to hold it.” He muttered softly to the whimpering man before swinging him up into his arms. They needed to get back to the town. Now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved as quickly as he could, careful to jostle his precious cargo as little as possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The leader of the little village was waiting near the city border when the witcher barreled back into town, yelling for a healer. The old man startled at the sight of the bloody bard and quickly ushered him to the herbalist’s hut on the edge of town. Of course, this awful little backwater wouldn’t even have a real healer… no just an old woman with a knowledge of herbs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, help was help and he settled Jaskier on the rough cot in her house and tried to calm Jaskier. He was shivering now, shaking in earnest from the pain across his face, and had the only eye visible squeezed tightly shut. He jerked and cried out as the herbalist removed the blood-soaked cloth in an attempt to get a look at the wound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt watched her try and clean away the blood with minimal success as the other man flinched and moved. He told himself it was a mercy, and that Jaskier would forgive him, as he raised his hand in the sign of Axii and whispered ‘Sleep’ into his ear. He went limp and quiet and Geralt sank to his knees beside him, ready to help with whatever was needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By sunrise, the full extent of the wound was tended, stitched where it could be, and cleaned where it couldn’t. It hurt to look at, and the herbalist, he had learned her name was Yanna, had shaken her head grimly when looking over the damage to his eye. His nose and ear had taken the brunt of the damage, but his eye had still been deeply injured. With the wounds clear and the bard bespelled to sleep, Yanna had been able to assess how bad the eye was. The eyelid was scraped red as if he had tried to close it mid-injury. It hadn’t helped. There was a gash across his eye, red and angry. The bleeding had stopped but this was not something a simple town herbalist had any knowledge with. If he could see out of it again, it would be a miracle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yanna gently slid the eyelid closed and pressed a clean linen square, padded with something, atop his closed eye. She talked as she wrapped additional bandages around his head to keep it all in place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold him steady. There. The eye is a miracle. I am no fancy healer from Beauclair, but I have seen many the odd injury in this town. Keep it closed, wrapped, and clean until the rest of the wounds heal. The eye should repair itself. If the sight does not return after… well. Then it likely never will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt nodded, eyes never leaving Jaskier’s sleeping face. It had swollen around the wounds and stitchings...and the tiny piece of ear missing kept drawing his gaze. He resolved to keep the bard as comfortable as he could, and for now, that meant asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a place we can rest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh aye. Now that you’ve rid us of our nightmares, we’ll see you rightly compensated. The house across the way is empty, the former occupants laid low by the same beast you killed. You can stay there for the week, and we’ll see about after.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>House was perhaps a bit of a misnomer. It had a kitchen and living space, and that was it. There was a large bed in the second half of the main room and there was where he gently deposited Jaskier, carefully removing his boots and the bloodied shirt and jacket before laying his own cloak over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there they stayed for that full week. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier slept for the first three days, only rousing when Geralt insisted he have some stew and water. He didn’t talk much past saying Geralt’s name and hissing slightly if anything touched the right side of his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of the week, Yanna returned and removed most of the bandages. The swelling was gone. The edge of his ear had healed into puckered scar tissue, and the stitches along his nose and cheekbone were ready to be removed. Jaskier gingerly held the little linen piece to his injured eye as she worked, still very silent. Geralt paced in the kitchen space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll be fine, Master Witcher. Scars mean healing. You’ll see.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shuffled out towards the door, satisfied with the progress of Jaskier’s recovery. “I still recommend keeping the eye closed at least one more week. But your young man is fine to travel one should you be needing to.” And with that, she was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>True to her word, they were compensated beyond the care of their stay and Jaskier’s rest. Roach had been brushed shiny, her tack well restored, and brand new shoes on each hoof. They had little coin to spare, but they had gathered supplies for the pair and Geralt deemed it fine and went back to fetch his Bard. He wanted to leave this place. Soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He entered the hut to see Jaskier sitting on the edge of the bed, fully clothed, with both of his eyes shut and hands clasped firmly in his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His good eye opened and he looked over at Geralt. He looked as if he was trying not to cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like a fool. An absolute idiot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighed. “Jaskier…” He crossed over and sat on the bed next to him, reaching out to take one of his hands in his. Jaskier unclenched and let him, weaving their fingers together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to be so angry. I thought you were safe and away but you were just behind me... Again. And you got hurt because of that. But I can’t be mad. Not really. Because while, yes, you put yourself in grave danger, you’re still here with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rubbed his thumb over Jaskier’s and stared at their clasped hands. “I tracked the trajectory of the spike that hit you. If you had leaned any further out from that tree, or if you had turned your head just a little more towards the monster… You would be dead. You’re lucky the spike only grazed you. If it had hit true… we wouldn’t be having this talk. And I … I can’t be angry when I can still touch you. Fuck, Jaskier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier pulled him down into his shoulder and wrapped an arm around him. “I’m still sorry, my love.” Geralt shook his head slightly and pressed soft kisses against his neck and up to his ear. Jaskier still had healing to do, and potentially some changes to adjust to, but for now, he was safe in his witcher’s arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The road to Beauclair was warm, smooth to travel, and too quiet with Jaskier’s continued silence. Geralt goaded him into laughter twice, but his tendency to laugh with his whole face caused winces of pain when it tugged at the healing scars. And so the silence reigned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were two days from the city proper when they stopped at a little creek and made camp. Jaskier built up the fire and laid out the bedrolls while Geralt bustled about checking the area. He came back to the bard looking down at his lute and lost in thought. He sat down on his right side and touched his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier yelped and jerked sideways. “Sweet gods! Geralt! Make some noise, would you? I can’t see on that side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt looked properly ashamed at that and tugged over their bag of medical supplies. “Sorry. I’ll...be louder next time.” He shuffled around to sit in front of him properly. “It’s been another full week. We need to change your bandage and you should try opening your eye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier paled a little at that. “Really? Already? Hah… well... I suppose.” He waved his hand at the bandages and water skin Geralt now held. “By all means, Witcher, do your doctoring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt gave him an unamused half-smirk and carefully undid all the bandaging about his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gashes were finally looking more normal. They were still quite pink, and the skin was sure to deeply scar, but it didn’t pull his face the way Eskel’s did and aside from the ear currently being covered by his hair, they only served to make him look more handsome to him. Geralt pressed a very soft kiss to the tip of his nose before lifting the patch away from the eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bandage free with his eye closed, he nearly looked no different. “Ah. Well, you may be baby-faced no longer, but now you have moved firmly into dashing rogue territory.” He tried for a light tone and an easy smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier breathed in a little unsteady and slowly opened his other eye. He winced as the movement pulled at the fresh scarring. The light hit his injured eye and made it water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt reached out and gently took hold of his chin, tilting his face slightly to get a better look at it. The sight made his stomach curl, and he had to make a conscious effort to keep his face neutral. The eye itself had healed over but the underlying iris was dull and did not focus or dilate with the light intrusion. Tears spilled out as Jaskier tried to blink rapidly in a bid to clear his vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… Geralt, I can’t see. I can tell there’s light but I can’t see. It’s all haze. I can’t see and…” He cut himself off with an audible swallow, closing the eye again. Geralt rubbed his thumb from his chin and up his good cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haze is better than nothing. Maybe it will improve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah...maybe.” He closed his other eye and leaned into Geralt’s caress. “Just… put the patch back on for now. Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt nodded and began securing the patch back to his eyes. “In the meantime… we could get you an eyepatch. Maybe an earring. Turn you into a pirate, hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier smirked a little but it wasn’t a real smile. “Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Witcher was at a loss as to how to cheer him up. Likely, he couldn’t be cheered up. Suddenly Geralt was the one talking more and Jaskier was quiet and subdued. Best get him to Beauclair as quickly as possible. Get him somewhere warm, safe, and comfortable and maybe he can draw his bard back out of his shell. He’s got a vial of Jaskier’s favorite oil stashed away and it would be perfect for a massage and some pampering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He allowed for another hour of rest, along with a light lunch, and then they were on the road again. The silence persisted. Until the rooftops of Beauclair came into sight, and then Geralt heard Jaskier’s breath hitch and turned his head to see him stand up a little straighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe I’d never made it all the way down here before. It’s beautiful and I can’t even see the full city yet!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt smiled. “And warm too. A much nicer vacation spot than a cold beach or a freezing mountain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The soft smile on Jaskier’s face stayed all the way into town. Then it grew even wider when Geralt took a crushed piece of parchment from his pocket and navigated them to a little house a couple of blocks from the market. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geralt… are we staying here?” He looked almost nervous as he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt nodded. “Yen called in a favor for us. We can stay as long as we’d like. There are supposedly three bedrooms, two dens, and a very large kitchen. As well as a small stable around the back. I’ll go get Roach settled and you can pick out which room we use.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded absently, still staring in mild shock at the adorable little villa before him. Geralt unlocked the door for him and then headed off to untack Roach and brush her down. They were safely ensconced in the town now, and he felt comfortable giving his Bard some space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was soothing, going through the motions of taking care of his mare and making sure she was comfortable. He lost himself to the meditation of it, letting his concern and stress of the last two weeks slip from his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A ragged yell, and then a very loud crash, came from an open window upstairs. Geralt’s heart kicked up into his throat as he dashed inside and towards the sound of abject misery. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He skids into the room Jaskier had claimed and halts abruptly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bard was panting heavily, tears streaming down his face. The bandages and cotton eyepatch were laying on the nearby bed. Across from Jaskier was the remains of a full-length mirror, the source of its demise (a small stool) was wobbling directly below it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt took a tentative step forward and held out his hands. “Jaskier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t respond. He simply shook and then sank down onto his knees, covering his face with his hands. The Witcher ached for him, knowing what it was like to have to come to terms with a new face looking back at a person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jask… Darling, can I touch you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bard nodded slightly, leaning into the touch when Geralt came over and wrapped an arm around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go through the house and cover the mirrors after this. We’ll take it a day at a time. It’s a change, and it will take time. I’m here. Always. And know that I know how … well, just that it’s hard. To adjust.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s shaking eased some as he clung desperately. “Geralt… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I … I did this to myself and now you have to… deal with me. And… and…” He hiccuped between breaths and started crying again. “I feel awful… for seeing myself and feeling vain and… destroying that mirror. Gods, half my ear is missing, and I’m caught up in how taverns will never take me seriously again.“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt rubbed soothing circles into his back and held him tighter. “Recovery isn’t linear, dear one, but I will do my best for you in the meantime.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt had been right. Recovery was most certainly not linear. There were days of laughter and there were days of somber lute-playing from a dark corner of their sitting room. But he was never truly alone through it, and Yen even visited a week into their stay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyesight wasn’t a total loss. She confirmed that while he wouldn’t be able to see much past light and dark, he should also be able to make out the odd blob or two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Focusing on trying to use his blurry eye gave him a headache and threw off the clarity of his other eye. Geralt bought him a rather fetching leather eyepatch with a soft cotton underside and tooled with imprints of small flowers. He learned to adjust to his range of vision being off, and compensate for his depth perception… he definitely knocked over several glasses of wine in his first month… and things slowly went back to some semblance of normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And through it all, he had Geralt. Strong, loving, and determined to pull as many laughs from him as possible. He kissed his scars, called him every synonym for pirate and rogue he could think of, and let himself be taught how to dance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier would wake from time to time with phantom pains shooting across his face, and Geralt would hold him and hum. He wasn’t usually one for singing or music...but for Jaskier… he’d try.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And there was my terrible attempt at whumping the bard, lol.</p><p>I'm still on my wild prompt fills, so keep an eye out for more from me! &lt;3</p><p>Stay shining, Dear Hearts.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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